The human factor
by Daitsuke-kun
Summary: When they were little, they never knew they'd be like this. Enemies. Enemies to the end. There was just always a human factor interfering. The society made them like this, and they played by the rules, being the obedient dolls. Shizuo and Orihara.


_Durarara!! is awesome, FYI. I just love Iza-kun._

**Name: A human Factor**  
**Fandom: Durarara!!**  
**Rated: T just because I like how it sounds more than K+, although K+ I guess it is in truth**  
**Genre: Friendship/Agnst/Hurt/Comfort **  
**Pairing: I guess you may call it Shizuo/Orihara if you use your imagination. But I guess just friendship. I'm not very good with yaoi, really. **  
**A/N: Just because this story has to be done**

_

* * *

_

Izaya Orihara always suspected that Shizuo Heiwajima was crazy. Well, actually, he wasn't the one to talk, especially remembering that scene with that girls cell phone... But in Izaya's opinion what he did was right. It was normal. An'd throwing fridges at people wasn't. Yeah.

And according to Shizuo Heiwajima Orihara Izaya was totally mad. Who would always have a knife with him, and point it at everyone just looking at him strangely (in his opinion, anyways)?.. Well, maybe Orihara wasn't actually acting like that... But still he wasn't acting normal, in Shizuo's canons of normalcy anyways.

And what do you know, Shizuo's canons of normalcy weren't quite normal... Next to a normal people's opinion.

Thus, standing in some abandoned alleway smoking already a third cigarette this day, Shizuo was thinking about ten awesome ways to get rid of annoying Orihara. Why, you ask?.. well, because this boy wasn't about to go anywhere away from the town, no matter how many times Shizuo yelled at him, and no matter how many fridges the blond threw at him.

It was Orihara, after all. And Shizuo knew he didn't give up that easily.

But neither did he.

"Hey Shizo-kun" - a familiar annoying voice sounded from his right. Shizuo turned and delivered a striking blow but his hand met emptyness. Damn, Orihara knew him all too well.

"I told you not to call me that" - said Shizuo in an icy voice. Izaya smirked, the blade of his little (but still deadly) knife shining in weak moonlight.

"What can be better than a good fight between old friends?" - laughed Orihara, closing the distance between himself and the blond, no doubt targeting his face or neck. It was their usual game when they met. They met - they fought, although the reason why was long time forbidden. If you asked Orihara he would just smile, and Shizuo would fix his glasses and say nothing.

Shizuo dodged his attack, fury written all over his noble-like features and, jumping to the left from his "friend". His palm circled around some object, that happened to be a stopping sign, and he easily tore it from the place where it was peacefully standing before meeting the blond.

"Oh, Shizo-kun, - smirked Orihara, playing with his knife teasingly. - It's getting dangerous" - with these words he rushed at Shizuo again, this time going for his middle level.

"Die" - said Shizuo, trying to hit Orihara's head with the sign that was rather big. Orihara easily avoided the blow, his reflection mirroring in blond's glasses. Quickly turning, Izaya slashed his friend. Shizuo's shoulder immediately burned, his white shirt getting red. The blond gritted his teeth, swinging the sign with unhuman force. However, Orihara jumped just in time; or else his head would surely turn into a nice pancake.

"1:0, Shizo-kun. Your instincts are getting pretty dull lately."

Shizuo didn't answer; he just swinged and swinges, letting Izaya no choice but to jump and jump from him, trying to save his pityful life. But the blond knew Orihara couldn't jump forever. All things come to an end. And knowing perfectly that Izaya wasn't unable to strike when he was that fast and furious, Shizuo believed that his friend's end was near - right at the red brick wall he was going to corner him into, and that will surely be even more red after he devoured the last blow...

"And I thought I was finished here. Looks like luck is still on my side."

The sign was mercilessly thrown away from him. The blond didn't even realise it at first - how the roles of a victim and an assassin quickly it was he who was cornered, and Izaya was standing right above him, holding his memorable knife in his hands, smirking.

Shizuo knew there was nowhere left to run. Not like he was going to; he could still fight, but didn't want to. Instead he was looking in Izaya's eyes with such intensity, such hatred, such... Pain.

"Why is it you're always better than me, in everything you do? Why!?" - whispered the blond. Orihara smirked.

"The difference between you and I is lying deep within ourselves. Have you ever wondered why I always beat you, although you have this gifted inhuman force concentrated in your hands? Have you ever wondered why you could never an upper hand me, even for a short period of time?"

Not a sound escaped Shizuo's lips.

Of course he wondered. Wondered many times, to be exact. What was so special about Izaya Orihara? Why was he always one step further than himself, even though he only had a knife against pure brute force?

Their fights were only a game, always a game for Orihara Izaya. But Shizuo wasn't playing at all; he always fought to kill, but something stopped them every time. Was it Simon, or Orihara just running away... Still. There was always a human factor interfering.

Maybe that's why Shizuo hated people so much; these bugs always had to ruin everything, to ruin his intentions and plans... And, apparently, Orihara's fun as well.

Orihara never took anything serious, as it seemes to the blond. Was it their fights, or the situations with the headless rider, or the Dollars, or something - anything - Izaya just always smirked.

Sometimes Shizuo wondered what was behind the smirk - and if it was all just a mask. Who was the true Izaya? What was he like? Nobody knew, and perhaps no one will ever know, even himself.

_Hey, Sizo-kun? Let's promise that we'll never keep anything a secret from ourselves._

The brief memory of their childhood came to his mind; it felt as if it was from another life, and even not his.

When they were little, they never knew they'd be like this. How they are now.

Enemies. Enemies to the end.

"Shizo-kun, don't space out when your opponent is still not dead or at least unconscious. I thought I taught you better then this."- Izaya shook his head mockingly.

And Shizuo hated his expression. Actually, he hated everything about Izaya Orihara. Izaya Orihara made him weak. Izaya Orihara was an annoying factor that Shizuo wanted destroyed. Dead. Eliminated. Dissapeared. Every word was fairly true in every single way.

"I hate you" - he spat. Orihara just smiled.

"Love you too, Shizo-kun"

The blond shuddered as if something cold touched him. Love... When they were kids there was friendship. There was love, in some sort. There was care for each other, until different factors began appearing that threw them apart.

Or maybe the only factor was themselves.

The feeling of another person hugging him was long forgotten; the last time Shizuo experienced it was before his mother passed away. Since then, he never held anyone in his arms, never felt warmth.

Izaya was all these things the violent blond made himself forget - warmth and love, care, softness. The fur on Izayas hood was tickling his cheeks and Shizuo liked it; and he hugged back, his hands circling around his friend.

Orihara was so small comparing to himself, so much more delicate; although older in every possible way. Next to Izaya Shizuo was just a little hormonal kid, who threw things at people just because he didn't know how to get away from it all; how to get away from this stupid world with selfish sinful people. He coped with reality in his own way, and what he really needed was just a hug from an old friend.

Orihara's knife was dropped to the ground with a loud sound, Izaya buried his face in the blond's neck and closed his eyes, smiling, and just breathing quietly.

Shizuo smelled like freshly baked bread and cigarettes; this contrast felt nice, good to the brunette. His skin was smooth and extremely pale, and cold; the blond was cold, because unlike Orihara he didn't wear a jacket. And it was late autumn.

Shizuo closed his eyes as well; the silence was comforting, and both enjoyed the moment while they had a chance.

At that moment, Shizuo Heiwajima was just a lonely boy who was never enough hugged, and Izaya Orihara was his old friend who shared his joy and pain. And everything felt so right, so clear and so unreal that the blond never wanted the moment to end. It was like a dream, a dream he knew would soon end and he will secretly treasure it forever, even after they become enemies again with the start of a new day.

Shizuo would yell at him and tell him to go the hell away from the town, and Orihara would just mock him and get fridges thrown in his direction.

But they were friends. And that was perfectly normal, already perfectly normal for them; it was like an everyday routine.

And maybe one day they would be able to meet without fighting. But that would already be an entirely different story.

* * *

_Finally, end, owari, over, finita. I hope you like it. Kind of agnsty and OOC I guess, but I liked how it turned out in the end. Finishing stories was never good for me. I guess I'm improving. _

_Durarara!! belongs to whoever created it, I own nothing. _

_Daitsuke-kun_


End file.
